Ten minutes later, the robed man had been tied to a chair, and his robe had been pushed back from his head, revealing his face; to the surprise of all three women, he looked remarkably normal, no sign of anything demonic in his rather average face, a face none of them would have looked at twice, had they happened to walk past him on the street.
"He looks so normal", Willow finally said out loud what they all were thinking, still holding on to the Staff and leaning on it rather casually, studying the man's slightly messy brown hair and his face, guessing him to be in his mid-thirties, "but I didn't imagine that red glow from his eyes, right?"
"No, you didn't", Pat confirmed, eying the guy as well, "I saw it, too. He's definitely not as normal as he looks, and I think he's waking up."
As if in response to her words, the man groaned, then opened his eyes, normal brown eyes now, and blinked a few times – before he realized that he was tied to a chair and he snarled, the red glow filling his gaze again as he glared at the small group, speaking through grit teeth.
"Insolence!", he snarled, pulling at the bonds, "how dare you! Untie me this instant!"
"We'll do no such thing", Buffy gave back, "first, you tell us what we want to know. Why do you want the Staff?"
In response, the man stared hatefully at her for a few moments – before his jaws started working, Pat's good eye going wide seconds later as blood started to dribble from his lips.
"Stop!" she snarled, stepping forward and grabbing at his jaw, in an attempt to interrupt what he was doing; it took Willow a moment longer to realize what was going on, her face paling rapidly the second she figured it out, the fact that by now, the bleeding had gotten much stronger and that the man was letting out strangely wet sounding laughter not helping with keeping her nausea at bay.
"Dammit", Pat grumbled in front of the chair, still trying to stop him; and moments later, he spat a shockingly large amount of blood at her, along with his tongue, and she jerked back, avoiding getting hit by the repulsive bodypart at the last second.
"Jesus Christ", Buffy whispered behind her, shocked; struggling to keep her dinner inside, all Willow could do was stare, while Pat let out yet another snarl – before she stepped forward, grasped his head and, without hesitation, broke his neck, his laughter cut off abruptly as he slumped back in the chair.
"Alright", she then mumbled, wiping her hands on her jacket as she turned to face her partner, "he must be working for someone really powerful if the thought of being forced to talk makes him bite off his own tongue."
"Apparently", Willow gave back, trying to push the image of her partner so easily killing that man out of her mind, knowing deep inside that it had been a mere mercy kill and had prevented him from bleeding to death from his self-inflicted injury or from choking on his own blood, "how could he do this? The pain alone would make any sane being stop…"
"Who knows what he was threatened with in case he'd talk", Pat sighed in response, turning to look at her lover, "and, well, there's nothing left for us to do here. Let's leave the cleanup to Willy and get out."
"Yeah", Buffy agreed, "but we at least should take our tongue-biter here along. I don't put it past Willy to call the police and blame us for him, just to make trouble."
"Good point", the demon had to admit, already bending down to undo the knots, then slinging the dead body over her shoulder; complaining about how she had to carry around dead or knocked out guys all evening, she made her way to the door, with Willow and Buffy in tow, the redhead still holding on the staff, taking strange comfort from the way her fingers were curled around the wood.
"Where should we put him?" the demon asked as she stepped outside, "just drop him in some cemetery?"
Nodding, Buffy just opened her mouth to suggest the cemetery close to the High School when the sound of screeching tires interrupted her; automatically, she looked over, taking a step back at the sight of the black van speeding towards them, the door in the vehicle's side sliding open and two men leaning out, wearing robes identical to the one the dead man slung over Pat's shoulder, their eyes narrowing in anger when they spotted him.
With startling unison, they brought up crossbows, somehow managing to keep them steady despite the rather wild driving style of the one behind the van's steering wheel; it took Pat just a second to realize whom they were aiming at, and the blink of an eye later, she had dropped the dead man and was moving, ending up in front of her partner just as the men fired their crossbows, a low grunt coming from her when both bolts hit.
"No!" Willow cried out as her partner went down, the bolts protruding from her shoulder blade and lower back, blood dripping from the wounds; she started moving closer to her, and that was when the van reached them and the men made a grab for her, a cry coming from both Buffy and her when their hands closed around her arms and she was yanked into the van.
"Willow!" Buffy screamed as the van sped off into the night, taking the witch and the Staff with it; for a moment, she almost ran after it, even though she knew it would have been useless, knew that not even her Slayer strength was a match for a car driving at such high speed – and then the demon groaned at her feet, and she remembered that her friend had been hit, dropping down on her knees next to her as she tried to figure out how bad it was, asking herself how all had gone wrong so shockingly fast.
Just as it had in the bar, the Staff took over again the moment she had been dragged into the van; and without hesitation, Willow let it, putting all her anger about what they had done to her lover into the whacks, taking them both down within seconds, before they even had a chance to reload their crossbows.
"What the Hell is going on back there!" the driver shouted, and the man next to him on the passenger seat turned to find out just that; he looked startled for a moment to see his companions knocked out cold and Willow standing in the van, the Staff in a firm hold, then his eyes narrowed as he brought up yet another crossbow.
Automatically taking a step back at the sight, Willow had a moment to wonder if the Staff would protect her against crossbow bolts as well, if it could protect her; and then the man was firing, and the Staff snapped upwards, batting the bolt aside with ease and causing it to hit the wall instead of her, a smirk forming on her face as she once more marvelled at how powerful and useful this artefact was.
"Dammit!" the man cursed, lowering the crossbow; the driver took a moment to look at him, whispering something under his breath, making him nod – before he stepped down hard on the brake, the abrupt halt causing Willow to lose her balance and to stumble, her arms flailing as she tried to remain on her feet without letting go of the Staff.
Just when she thought that she'd manage, a hand grasped her ankle and gave her a powerful yank, ruining the tiny chance she'd had to stay on her feet; with a yelp, she fell, and seconds after she had hit the floor, one of the men she'd fought half a minute ago was on top of her, pressing a knife to her throat, blood dripping freely from his nose as he glared down on her.
"Let go of the Staff", he pressed out, barely suppressed rage and hatred in his voice, "or I'll open you up from ear to ear, I swear!"
Swallowing heavily, feeling the cold steel against her skin, Willow did as he had told her to, and the Staff immediately shrank, until it was merely a stick again; still keeping the knife to her throat, the man reached for it and picked it up, the witch noting that he made sure to not touch it directly, but to keep the fabric of his robe between his fingers and the wood.
"Good job", his companion grunted, coming around again as well and rubbing his head, "and I owe the bitch one for nearly knocking out my teeth."
"Be my guest", the other one smirked, and the redhead's eyes widened – before the man lashed out and backhanded her, hard enough to throw her head aside and to split her lip, forcing her to grit her teeth so she wouldn't cry out in pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.
"What do we do with her now?" the driver called out, the van having picked up speed again and taking them God knew where, "taking her along was never part of the plan!"
"I know that, numbnuts", the man who still was straddling her replied, never taking his eyes off of her, "if that stupid demon hadn't taken the bolts for her, we wouldn't have this problem. The boss will figure something out."
"We should just kill her and toss her out", the driver muttered, causing her to swallow heavily again, relief briefly filling her when immediately, the guy who had hit her shook his head.
"No, idiot", he then admonished, "don't you know who she is? And who her friends are? If our bolts didn't kill the demon, and I doubt they did, you know what they say about her, she'll come after us for sure, with the Slayer at her side. With the witch alive, we at least have a chance to negotiate."
His words reminded Willow of the fact that, yet again, her partner had risked her life to keep her from harm, and her heart clenched up as she asked herself how badly Pat had been hurt; and then, the knife was gone from her throat, but before she could do anything in reaction, the weapon's hilt slammed against the side of her head, stars exploding in front of her eyes and a pained cry escaping her after all before the world went dark around her.